


Guardian Spirit

by Aithilin



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friends to Lovers, Guardians - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Slow Burn, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Kurogane had a mission to destroy the demon that was terrorising a town and haunting a forest.





	1. Cleansing Ritual

People went missing all the time, all across the country. There were children who wandered off, merchants and travellers lost on the roads through the many mountains, fishermen who never came home. Every village in every province, under the rule of every warlord had at least a handful of reports each year. None of them were really unusual, and no one was ever really safe from the danger of being spirited off unless they learnt their lessons from the stories. 

And there were plenty of stories. 

Children were lured away by the kappa and promising spirits. Fishermen claimed by the living waves and taken to the other kingdoms. Woodcutters were waylaid by ghosts masked as beggars and beautiful women. The stories passed through the provinces and territories and warring states with very little change to them. But Tomoyo had never before actually travelled to investigate them herself. 

There had been stories like that in Suwa, Kurogane remembered. He remembered the way his father joked about the creatures in the forests, the demons in the fields that edged through night with only the darkness for cover. He remembered the way that his mother warned him of the rivers and lake. He remembered the glimpses of the creatures under the water and in the trees— the ones that gathered when his father wasn’t away fighting the demons that encroached on his home. He thought they were shadows, weeds, the rattle of leaves in the breeze and claw-like branches in the winters. He listed to the stories for the lessons they brought, not because he thought the creatures were really out there, bold enough to step into Suwa or take the citizens under the protection of his powerful parents. They were just the tales people told to explain why someone didn’t come home.

And now, watching as Tomoyo— his small, terrifyingly stubborn princess— worked her magic over the little woods that haunted an even smaller village, he remembered the stories his parents used to tell him. He remembered the ghosts and ghouls and creatures that he had seen as a child and saw his deceptively delicate princess confront them all with the same steel his mother had.

The stories from this particular forest were simple— people went in, and no one came out. Only the children were found alive weeks, months later, wandering the farms or roads. They were half-frozen, lips blue, skin pale, and stuttering out stories of ghosts and snows and the dark woods. The adults were found dead, their spirits just as lost as those confused children. Their bodies stiff as if they had been lost in the depths of the mountains in winter snows. 

When he had heard the first stories, the first pieces of information that filtered down through his princesses’ dreams, he wondered what sort of spirit had a sense of mercy to spare the children it took. 

The dreams were followed by real reports and stories which came to the palace in trickles— rumours here and there first, then excited tales of a merchant, then wild retellings of a performing troupe, then sober reports of the soldiers sent to ask for help. There was a ghost, first, who led a wanderer away. Then there was a creature, alluring and gentle, who tempted merchants and monks deeper off the paths. Then there was a demon, a creature of Kurogane’s childhood who rushed through the night and stole anyone on the paths or not, with only a trail of ice to follow in the morning. 

And now, as the light of spirits claiming their rest flittered about the woods at the sound of Tomoyo’s spells, Kurogane wondered why they were here at all. There were a hundred villages with a hundred haunted forests in the country. 

“In the morning, I’ll send my best warrior in to make sure the forest is safe again.”

At least if there was a demon, he would have a bit of fun with this damned forest.


	2. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurogane is not used to having others with him on a hunt.

Time passed oddly in the forest as he walked the small trails as quietly as was possible with the frost and thin layer of snow underfoot. The ice in the trees growing thicker the deeper he went, coating the bark from one side, smoothed in the wind and by the force with which it appeared. But he had left at dawn, with a small handful of (admittedly brave) volunteers from the terrified little village, and the day seemed to have grown shorter. 

When he had left the palace with his princess, it had been hot. The city was getting ready for the summer festivals and the first round of harvests, the sun and humidity had made the city walls almost unbearable. Even the night winds had brought little relief if there was no rain. 

“Kurogane-sama,” one of the men ahead of him on the trail— one of the guides just brave enough to clutch an axe that could pass for a weapon and volunteer to lead someone far more capable of killing into the forest— spoke; “there is a shelter up ahead, if we could stop?”

They had just as the sun rose and the strange nightly mist dissipated in the summer warmth; they followed a trail of twisting, crunching frost that spread out like claws from the forest, creeping closer to the edge of the village from across a now-abandoned field. Now, after what Kurogane was certain was just a handful of hours, the day felt half-gone as the ice and the cold grew heavier around them. The thin frost was snow now, the trees covered with the ice— smooth on one side from the force of its arrival with a wind. 

Until now, Kurogane had ignored the muffled chatter of the men he had taken with him. They spoke in hushed tones about the leaves in the trees— dead and colourful, as if the autumn had never left them, despite the summer heat everywhere else— but frozen to the branches by the ice that now touched everything along their way. The men touched the cold, rough bark of the trees around them in awe, and chattered more in their hushed tones and clutching their makeshift weapons. They were anchors to the village, Tomoyo had told him— a reminder that he was there to save people, not just kill. He thought that they were already getting in his way. They talked too much. 

“You can,” he had no interest in stopping. In wasting time in this cold, in waiting for whatever was out there to come closer when they didn’t have an advantage. He wanted to forbid a fire, worried about the attention it will draw, about the magic it might bring down on their heads, about the way that a fire could inflict itself on a creature of cold and ice. The men only had axes and farming tools between them, and it was cold. “A small fire only.”

The forest itself was nothing special. It covered most of the mountains, as far as Kurogane had understood, but there were extensive paths throughout it. The ones to neighbouring villages were meant to be well-tended and lit, with the couriers and merchants commissioned by the villages themselves to report anything amiss. Other paths, smaller ones, less used by the common people were the ones kept by hunters and woodcutters and priests. There were paths leading to shrines, and outposts, and small shelters claimed by no one in particular. There were hunter’s retreats they had already passed, and small shelters made by woodcutters who no longer ventured this far. 

But they had yet to pass any guardians or shrines, anything sanctified along the small, winding trails to protect those who needed them. 

He suspected that Tomoyo was the first person to sanctify any part of the forest in a long while.

“It was a child,” Tomoyo had said when they watched the fog ease its way back into the shrouded woods that morning. “Look for a child when you’re in there.”

Kurogane didn’t ask if it was a boy or a girl who was lost in the woods this time. He supposed it was a dreamseer if it had called to Tomoyo, someone strong and smart if they had called out through dreams for help. But the deeper he led the villagers, the more anxious they became, the more they tried to keep their weapons close, the more they tried to comfort each other through their mindless chattering. And none of them had mentioned any recent missing children. 

When the men settled, it was around a fire that was far too bright and far to big for Kurogane’s liking. But with the heat, the air changed around them, they were happier, calmer— still keeping their weapons close, but none of them were idiots. The supplies were opened and shared, the chatter started again. 

And Kurogane kept watch. 

The men grew bold with their fire and the quiet and the cold— it was like a winter excursion, one mentioned, the way they used to gather together and spend days out in the forest to gather their wood or game. It was almost normal, the way the fire warmed them, their backs to the darkness and the cold. It was a wonder, the way the ice shimmered around them in the light; it seemed brighter, more welcoming. 

Kurogane kept watch. 

There were no shadows in these woods— no ghosts prowling behind them, no creatures seeking their fire. There were no animals running through the brush to escape their noise (Kurogane hadn’t seen any tracks in hours). There were no flashes of the otherworld in the ice and snow, shimmering as the fire brought calm to the scared men. It was almost normal, the way the men spoke, the way they shared their food and boiled snow for water. It was almost normal to adjust their cloaks to the cold and warm their hands in the light. 

Kurogane remembered that just outside of the forest, outside of whatever barrier had been created by this clawing cold, there were summer festivals and priests praying for rains for the crops and to break the humidity. In the city he had made his home, there was a summer festival Tomoyo would be missed from, and colourful clothes she would insist that he help her gather when they returned. The city where the air was sticky and oppressive and it made sleep slow to come and harder to keep. 

There were stories in winter nights like these— those that were peaceful and soft, where the stars kept watch above the bare trees. Only these trees were still thick with their ice-covered leaves, still clinging to the summer only hours away. The comfort and ease extended only as far as the light of the fire, and there was nothing beyond that bubble. Even the trees lost their shape outside the light and the ice cloaked them like the walls of a cave. Kurogane had been inside enough kekkai to know that they were inside a barrier now; the walls felt the same, separate from the reality he knew and understood. As he walked the edge of their little camp, as the men ignored him in favour of their food and drink and warmth, Kurogane tried to sense where the barrier ended and reality would begin again. 

It was no use alarming the village’s men for something like this. Even his eyes couldn’t see the road beyond in the darkness. 

When the men talked of sleep, Kurogane withdrew his sword. When the men discussed watches and tending the fire, Kurogane settled just out of range of the light. He could feel the cold, seeping, clinging, urging him closer to the warmth and light and company. Teasing with urges of friendliness and sleep and the same laughing chatter the men shared as if he wasn’t there to begin with. As if they were out on a hunt for deer like any other winter. 

Time passed strangely in these woods. 

The darkness lifted as the fire died. The barrier thinned and Kurogane could see the forest around him as the men, even the watch, slept. The men no longer clutched their axes and tools, they smiled and slept easily out of the wind. 

In the dark, between the trees, Kurogane wished he had seen something. Some force or figure. A ghost that wandered too close, a figure that he could chase to the cold’s source. As the fire died, Kurogane watched, and saw nothing. The low flames and following embers kept the darkness at bay, kept the weight of the night and the stories and the cold from seeping into their little barrier. Kurogane sensed nothing from the forest, just the smothering cold that numbed his hands as he held his weapon. 

Only one man woke in the morning, rested and still warm. 

Kurogane hadn’t seen what killed the rest, but his limbs were stiff from the cold. His back sore from the ice on the tree he had leaned against. The footsteps on the path were covered in fresh snow, though nothing had changed. The night had felt like only minutes had passed to Kurogane, but the dead men were frozen in their peaceful sleep. 

Kurogane kept his sword drawn as he led the scared survivor forward on the trail. He took an axe from one of the dead men and kept the survivor in sight as he pressed them forward.


	3. Cave Entrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurogane finds what he's been looking for.

There was a shrine in the forest, off of the main roads, Kurogane learnt from the survivor. A small shrine, sanctified by the monks and priests who wandered from village to village each year, and tended or visited by the many people who once travelled the roads through the woods. It was a merchant’s shrine, something small and safe and meant to represent the guardians on the roads— the spirits who let the travellers safely pass. There were rumours of hunter’s totems and small shrines throughout the woods— guardian statues that seemed to be placed on every path elsewhere but were absent here. There were rumours, the man said, of the caves deep in the mountains with their own temples and the shrines before the stones. 

Kurogane pushed him ahead on what he assumed was the path. The snow was too thick, too untraveled, to mark by indents in the snow where generations of woodcutters and hunters had once cut their way through. They were deep enough into the forest now that the frozen canopy was an oppressive danger above them, threatening to drop shards of ice with every breeze. The wood around them creaked, and distance snaps of the over-weighed branches, the frozen, damp wood of the trunks, splintered. 

When they came across the mountain stones, sanctified by shimenawa, Kurogane thought that the man— he had forgotten if he was a farmer, or a woodcutter; the small group of volunteers that had come into the forest with him had all been equally unimpressive— would collapse in his relief. The torii were old and faded, mingling with the trees. It was unkempt and cold, and there was no feel of a holy place beyond the gate. But the man rushed forward through the snow, pulling out what few coins he had to offer in prayer anyway. He struggled to lift his feet high enough over the drifts, hacking a path ahead with the scythe he had taken from one of the dead men, all while struggling to keep a grip on the coins he wanted to offer to whatever gods had already condemned them. 

“This is near the road, then?” Kurogane didn’t want to stop, not here. There was nothing here but a small covered area already deeper and off the path he had been trying to follow. 

“No. No, no.” The man was shaking as he left his offering at the unkempt little guardian statue. It was a local one, Kurogane supposed. Something he had no knowledge of to begin with. If there ever was an offering box, it was lost in the enduring winter, either buried or broken. “The one at the road would be bigger. Dedicated to the mountain and the road.”

“Then hurry up with your prayers.”

The man was shaking and cold. He had been since the morning, struggling to draw in deep breaths as the cold pressed against him from all sides. Kurogane had yet to feel the threat of a demon, of a malicious spirit, but he could see that there was something draining the man the deeper they went. And as cold as he was himself, Kurogane still had yet to catch the same sort of chill. He had yet to feel the same shortness of breath or the fear that the clawing cold could leave behind.

The man nodded and stood before the guardian, pale hands pressed together. And Kurogane turned to give him his privacy— this was the prayer of a man afraid to die in the cold like his friends; something desperate and useless. Kurogane wanted no part in this. 

There was a movement in the distance, a shift between the trees. For the first time since stepping into the forest, he saw something that wasn’t just snow and ice or dead pale wood. There was a small figure, barely a wisp of a thing— the child Tomoyo had mentioned— but too pale and distant to be something living. 

For the first time since stepping into the forest, Kurogane smirked. There was something else in here, there was something other than the damned snow and silence and the prattling of scared men from a cursed village. It didn’t feel like a child, and it didn’t feel like a demon, Kurogane couldn’t feel anything from it at all— it was just a vision, of a strange little child with pale skin and pale hair slipping between the trees and over the snow. 

“Stay here.” He could see the cave wall now— the rocky mouth separated from the rest of the hillside he hadn’t noticed until now. There were more tricks from this creature, but they would be gone once he cut it down. The man looked terrified to be left alone. “Build a fire. Stay warm.”

“But—”

“Stay here.”

There were no tracks, where the vision had stood. No marks in the snow or footprints in the ice. There was nothing but the opening to the cave, rock slick with thick ice, and the ropes to guide travellers in frozen stiff and hard against the stone. If there had ever been stairs cut into the stone, they were gone beneath the ice now, and Kurogane braced himself with a dagger in the wall to make his way down. He had to crouch to move, already limited in the space by the narrow walls and the slick slopes— there was no room for a sword. 

Tomoyo had told him to look for a child when he was in the forest. That there was a child who had called out to her in this whole mess. And now, as he made his way down to the cave depths— cutting into the ice to keep from slipping to who knows where and prying the rope from the wall to ease his passage down— he saw a child. A pale, yellow-haired, ice-eyed child standing on the ice not far ahead. 

He had seen demons with the faces of children before. 

He had seen the way Tomoyo tried to tame them with kindness before he had to cut them down. 

And now, with one hand braced on a frozen rope and the other gouging out footholds in the ice with his dagger, he was at a disadvantage in meeting with a creature that seemed perfectly happy to watch him get closer. Where the slope evened out, in a little cavern still lit by the outside, Kurogane could stand again. Before he could act— before he could move his dagger from the ice or his sword from its sheath— the creature had run across the room. 

Not away, not even really out of reach, but Kurogane threw his dagger all the same. The creature moved like a ghost, and the blade was embedded in something solid in the darkness. Something like frozen wood. 

“Shit,” Kurogane struggled on the ice of the cave floor, tried to retrieve the easier weapon as the child reappeared. The cavern was too small— to cramped, too dark— to make use of his sword. But the child— the little creature with the movements and look of a ghost— simply smiled and waited and produced a little glow in its hands. 

It was a snowglow— the same soft light Kurogane remembered from the fields of Suwa in his childhood. The same soft, nightly light that never seemed to make sense to him, regardless of how often his parents told him it was made by the moon’s light. It was a cold, dead light, and the creature seemed far too pleased with itself for making it. 

Kurogane could see the shrine in the light. His knife had struck a pillar holding the little thing up. Or what was left of it. At some point, part of the cave walls had collapsed. Before the curse had started, at least, since the little thing— a local guardian, a part of the larger shrine outside— was already buried in the thick sheet of ice and snow, with the stones that crushed a part of it left intact where they fell. The little figure inside the shrine— the guardian— had been broken beneath the crush of the rocks and the little shrine roof. The debris, the wood, the stone, whatever was left of the construction, was practically buried by the ice. But it looked just as forgotten as the shrine outside of the cave. 

The child produced a coin, holding it out to him like an offering, and Kurogane was reminded of the man’s prayers just outside. 

“What the hell are you?”

When he didn’t take the coin, the creature threw it down a cavern, the clinking and ring of metal striking the ice far louder than it should be. But it glowed, deeper in the cave depths, and Kurogane could see the steep slopes where there had been a heavy darkness before. When he looked back to the shrine, the creature was gone again, and the light fading. Grumbling to himself as he wrenched his dagger back from the frozen wood, he searched the new opening for a guiding rope like at the entrance. Whatever magic was at the source of this, it was down that slope. Whatever demon he had come to kill was strong enough and smart enough to set traps and lures and draw the innocent away from the safety of their homes— and he had promised his princess to clear out this forest despite every instinct reminding him of what sort of traps demons can set. 

He will definitely have a chat with Tomoyo about exactly what should constitute a “child” in her damned dreams when he gets back.


	4. The Cavern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurogane makes it to the central cavern, but the demon waiting there wasn't the sort he was used to.

For the last few metres of the slope, there was no avoiding the fall. Even as Kurogane dug his dagger into the ice walls to slow his descent, and gripped the guiding rope, there was no way to catch his footing once he started to slip. He had expected an easier climb down— if there was a rope, there would have been humans here at least at some point, and humans tended to try to make these sorts of things easier. The gouge in the wall left by the dagger stopped abruptly where he lost his grip on the thing— where it jerked to a halt at a hard patch of ice and he lurched forward with only the rope to try to catch his footing. He wrenched his shoulder in the attempt, and ended up sliding down over a short drop into the next cavern. 

This one was larger than the entrance he had climbed to. This one spread itself open in every direction, with the little coin the spirit had tossed down acting as the only light. He could see the remnants of a shrine before actually spotting the structure— two stone lanterns had been frozen or toppled over, encased like everything else in the cold and ice. Carved edges were rounded by the years (he assumed years) of ice and wind, left empty and neglected like the shrine outside. 

Kurogane drew his sword before he picked up the coin. There was no path in here, nothing cut into the ice or stone that he could see to direct him to any particular part of the cavern. He could feel the smaller icicles clinging to the ceiling fall before he heard them— distant little breezes and movements that gnawed at his attention as he tried to figure out exactly what he had stumbled across and what was waiting for him here. He stepped between larger pillars of ice— great structures formed over years from ceiling to floor— and the light shattered into prisms with each one he edged around. 

He had heard of demons nesting in the desecrated and forgotten local shrines around the country. He had heard of them taking up residence in abandoned towns and mines, claiming the voids left by indifferent local gods who had moved on or were left forsaken by their people. 

Nothing in the cavern felt _unnatural_. Even the ice that had built up, was blown outward, curved and smoothed by some wind from outside or another source from within, did not feel like the work of a demon. 

When he finally found the little shrine— a mirror to the one just above, where the child had greeted him— he found nothing unusual. It stood, intact, a little guardian worn down by the ages and cut from stone safely in place between four little pillars and beneath a little roof. It was a shrine, identical to every other local guardian shrine he had ever come across, only cold and icy and abandoned by any worshippers. 

He was going to kill Tomoyo when he managed to get out of here. 

Whatever the source of the cold was, it had either already moved on, lured him here to trap, or was out hunting. Either way, Kurogane had only found a little guardian shrine in a strange cave for all of his trouble.

“You’re very persistent, aren’t you?”

He almost expected to see the child again, not a grown man smiling at him from a perch on the icy stones. 

“What the hell are you?”

The man was out of reach, at least for any immediate attack. There were three of the ice pillars— the icicles that tapered from ceiling until the narrow tips merged with the ice on the floor— between them, if he moved correctly. They could be shattered into shards if struck properly, he supposed, with enough force to at least slow a demon down and clear his line of attack. Adjusting his grip, his stance, casually stepping into a better position, he kept the man in his sight. 

He didn’t expect the creature to just smile at him. He looked like the child; all pale gold and blue and ice in his eyes. 

“I think you’ve decided that I’m a demon.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Kurogane tossed the coin aside, towards the little shrine where it could help keep the light still within reach if he needed it. He tried to step lightly, to judge the distance between them, but the ice made it harder to see just how far or how close the creature was. 

“Well, then I’m Fai.” 

“Is that supposed to mean something?” He knew it was obvious that he was ready for a fight— for an attack. He had walked into this knowing it was a trap, he just wanted to hurry up and spring it so he could get out of the damned caves.

“Not at all.” The man— Fai— was clearly the source of the cold. He was perched easily on an outcropping of either stone layered beneath years of ice, or on the ice formations itself. Where bare skin touched the ice, there was no mark from heat or withdrawal from the cold. Kurogane thought he felt like magic— he could feel the magic not clinging to the man, but draped around him. “Most people don’t come this far, they die long before finding the caves.”

Kurogane knew that already, knew that there were bodies that would likely not return home for a while yet. That there was probably another one waiting for him outside of the caves now that the creature had returned. 

“But you’re not most people, are you?” Fai still smiled, watched with unconcerned eyes as Kurogane continued to move into a better position. “Do you have a name?”

This was the most talkative demon he had ever encountered. 

“Fine, I’ll come up with one for you.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hm?” The creature finally shifted, looking more interested now that there was some sort of response.

He had heard of some creatures teasing their prey, playing with their victims or setting them on impossible challenges to revel in their humiliation. But he had never heard of one actually asking for names or speaking this much when there was clearly a fight to be had. “This. This talking.” 

“Just making conversation, Mr. Black.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“What?” He had issued a threat— a challenge. This creature clearly thought it was the master here, something powerful and prepared. Normally, even in the stories Tomoyo would tell, in the stories he had learnt as a child, this would be where the could draw the creature into a show of strength. At least he could challenge and be done with it. This Fai just looked confused by the thought. 

“Why would you want to kill me, Mr. Black? I haven’t hurt you.”

“You’ve killed innocent people.”

“And you care about innocent people?” Fai smiled again, leaning forward to look Kurogane over again, as if he had just been given some new secret information to make him reassess what was before him. Kurogane wasn’t sure of the scrutiny. No matter where he moved, there was something in his way— the ice, a lack of purchase on the cold beneath him. There was no leverage to force the creature into action, to distract him enough for an opening. He wanted to be rid of those eyes on him. 

He was getting impatient. “Of course I do.”

“You seemed fine with leaving the dead this morning;” the creature was still smiling, still watching, only mildly curious (by Kurogane’s judgement) at how the long blade of Kurogane’s sword scratched at the ice. “Why aren’t you dead?”

Kurogane had expected something— anything— else from Fai. A challenge, a threat. He had expected the creature that had been hunting the townspeople, cursing the forest, spreading cold and ice so far from its seat of power, to be more like the simple demons he had found before. They had only wanted chaos, destruction, to spread their own influence. This creature seemed curious. 

Fai slipped from his perch, landing surefooted with only a small adjustment to the clothing he wore. If the figure was just an illusion— some trick to lure in prey— it was a good one; Kurogane could see no evidence of weapons or threat, and he had never seen a demon fuss with clothing before. Overall, Fai appeared harmless if not for the unnatural colouring and pallor. “Everyone else has died. But you haven’t, Mr. Black. Why not?”

Kurogane raised his sword before Fai could get close, there was no movement towards an attack from the creature, but Kurogane preferred to strike first. He lashed out, finding his footing on a rough patch of the ice and pushing himself forward to force an impact, to force a fight. He wanted this done. 

He had been in this position before, on the offensive, launching himself at an enemy he expected to strike. He expected the impact, the claws, the magic, the fury the demons always drew on. He expected at least a cut, some hit landing to cut through flesh. He had been too close to miss, but he didn’t feel the impact or the resistance, just the burning cold of the ice as he slid across the cave floor, finding purchase only by digging his sword into the ice to slow himself. He glared at the creature just smiling before him. 

“What the _hell_ are you?” 

“I’m not a demon, if that’s what you mean.”

“You’re not a ghost. You’re not human.” In any case, the weapons Kurogane carried— the weapons sanctified by Tomoyo, were useless if he couldn’t land a hit on the thing— the creature mimicking a human. 

“No.”

“You’re that child from up top,” he knew that it had been a trap, this creature lured and trapped its victims. He had seen it draining the life from the villager still outside of the cave as they wandered this far into the forest. He had only hoped to spring the trap himself. “What do you expect me to do here?”

“Child?” He didn’t think demons could show surprise. But clearly there was a lot that he hadn’t understood about demons. “What child? Where?”

He was fairly certain that Tomoyo had some inkling of what was in this forest— she had never failed to sense a real threat before. He had never failed to sense a threat before. “The one who was at the shrine.”

“Where? Where is he?”

“It wasn’t you?”

“It was my brother. I’ve been looking for him.”


	5. Out of the Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kurogane makes his way out back of the caves, Fai decides to 'help'.

“Let me get out of here,” Kurogane had no intention of staying down in this cave as a plaything for the creature. He still had a mission to stop the deaths in the forest. He pulled himself back to his feet, deciding if the creature wasn’t interested in a fight then he should start looking for a way out— that might be enough to provoke it. “I can take you to where I saw that child.”

Whatever this _Yuui_ was, it had affected Fai. The creature seemed to fret. Actually _fret_. He wrung his hands as he paced along the ice in front of the small shrine where the coin still lay— his shadow long across the glittering ice pillars and cast against the frozen walls. Kurogane had already tried to look for something in the shadow to indicate the true nature of whatever Fai was, but there was nothing like the stories of beasts being revealed by their shades. Fai just appeared to be human-shaped. 

“No, that won’t do anything. Yuui is dead. His totem was destroyed.”

He hadn’t wanted to sheathe his sword just yet. At the very least, if he managed to kill this creature, he could use the sword and axe to climb his way up one of the icy slopes. “Then what did I see?”

“I don’t _know_.” Fai paused in his paces, and chuckled. “That’s a new feeling.”

The cavern branched off in two other areas. The first was an opening several metres up in the cavern’s wall— a dark opening that was too far out of Kurogane’s reach even with the slopes and piles of broken and cracked ice beneath it. The other was another dark passageway far too dark to get a sense of. But it was within reach.

“You don’t want to try that,” Fai said, watching him again. “It’s not a way out.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“No reason, Mr. Black.”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“Then what am I supposed to call you?” 

Kurogane knew better than to give a name to a demon— he didn’t want whatever Fai was tracking him down later. It was far too annoying and he didn’t know how to kill it yet. “Nothing. Just get me out of here, and I’ll show you where I saw… Yuui.”

“Why should I trust you?” He wasn’t prepared for the smirk, for the little look of mischief. 

“You shouldn’t,” Kurogane grumbled; “I’m going to kill you.”

“And I don’t even know your name.” 

Kurogane stalked back to the little shrine, picking up the still-glowing coin from where it had landed. The metal was cold— too cold. He dropped it again and picked it up with the corner of his cloak. It was awkward, and dimmed the light the coin granted, but it was better than nothing. Now that he had felt the cold, and the creature had stopped talking, he started to realise just how cold it was in this little cave. How the ice closed in around everything in thick sheets and how his breath hung in the air like a frost before it dissipated. It was cold, and he was trapped, and he could feel the chill seeping into his bones now. 

“Ah, there it is,” Fai said, his smile still firmly in place as he watched Kurogane move. “You are human, after all.”

“What does that mean?” Coin offering as much light as it could, Kurogane used it to find where he had come into the cavern. 

“It means that I was starting to wonder if Mr. Black might not be a demon coming in to take over my home here.” 

The creature moved its hands, cupped them together like he was catching water. The snowglow, the same from the child at the broken shrine started to spread from his palms, soft, and cool, and enough to light up the ice like a full moon was just above. Kurogane could see the slope he had come down and started towards it— he would just need to reach where the rope had broken. “Just get me out of here.”

He wasn’t about to thank the creature that had trapped him here for a little light. Fai was at his side as he tried to cut footholds into the ice, sheathing his sword and taking out the axe to do the work instead. “I didn’t kill anyone. Not intentionally.”

“Then what did?” Kurogane frowns, hacking at the ice as he thought that through. There was no other threat in the forest, the ice and the snow had clearly originated from this cave. “That child? And what do you mean ‘intentionally’?”

“It’s just the nature of it,” Fai was watching, amused still. Not a threat, but damned annoying the way everything Kurogane tried seemed to amuse him. “We don’t kill people. We don’t need to.”

“Unless?”

“Unless we’re dying.” Fai watched as Kurogane started to work his way up to the slope, as he hacked and chopped his way up far enough to grab the dagger. 

It was still cold, but the movement helped. The coin rang out like before as he dropped it to wrench the dagger from the ice and start using it to climb his way back up. It was dark, and the ice felt thicker than the way down, the walls narrower. Burning with the cold so close to his face, his flesh. He wondered if this was how those people had died— so cold they thought they were burning in the wind. At least, for him, the struggle back up to the cave surface was enough to keep him focused, warm in the exertion. Warm enough to get out, at least. 

Once on a secure hold a few steps further up from where he retrieved the dagger, he reached out to feel for the rope. Parts of the frayed ends had frozen again to the wall, and he wrenched it free before the ice could bite into his searching hand. He could see the glow of the cavern behind him, but the creature was no where to be seen now. Ahead was still just darkness, but at least now he had the guiding rope to help the climb. 

The cave entrance— the small cavern where he saw the child and the broken shrine was lit the same way as the one below— glittering cold light sparkling across the ice. He would, perhaps, have thought it beautiful if not for the air burning his lungs as he pulled himself from the tunnel. The air may as well have carried shards of crystal down his throat and into his lungs for all the good it was doing. He struggled to catch his breath, the armour fitted around his chest too restricting when he tried to take in a deep breath. It burned and shocked, and he briefly wondered if the broken shrine could be used as kindling. 

He knew better than to try to shrug off the armour— than to expose more of himself to the clawing cold trying to rip him apart. He knew better than to just stop for longer than a few moments. There was wood outside. He could have a fire outside. 

“I could help with that, if you wanted, Mr. Black.”

“Help with what?” He didn’t mean to push the words out through gasps as he caught his breath. As he struggled to regain his footing now that his body had a moment to rest. He pushed himself up through the ache and looseness, knowing the walk back to the village to report was going to be much longer than the walk to the cave in the first place. 

“The cold.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Only a little.”

He didn’t know how the creature got up to the smaller cavern, and he wasn’t about to ask. But Fai was there, all smiles and cheerful tone, as if he thought Kurogane mad for not taking a convenient set of stairs. The demons he had faced before were all bound by the world around them. Ghosts and spirits moved as they wanted, where and when they wanted— not bound to any particular physical aspect. But demons and creatures were just as tied to the world as humans and animals. Fai’s travelling unhindered by the cave and ice was the best evidence Kurogane could see that kept him out of the ‘demon’ category. 

Frustrated, Kurogane pushed past the smiling creature and started towards the entrance. Back to the narrow slope upwards where he had already cut sturdy holds. 

“Let me help.”

“Go away.”

The air was still burning in his lungs, but the promise of the fresh, forest air was far more welcome. The promise of a fire, more so.

“Did any children die?”

That was enough of a strangeness to shock Kurogane out of his planning. He paused and glared at the creature, taking a moment to process exactly what Fai had asked. “No.”

“Yuui protected children. Lost children. If it was him, he wouldn’t have meant to hurt anyone.”

“You said he was dead.”

“He should be. So should you.” Fai had stooped at the little broken shrine, clearing the ice over the stone with a touch. “He was hurt, and scared. Someone must have prayed.”

“Gods don’t exist.”

Fai still smiled. “Maybe not. But I can still help you.”

“Then get rid of the ice.” 

“It’s not mine.” 

Kurogane started on the slope— this was too much out of his ordinary. Demons and assassins and warlords he could manage. Whatever the hell Fai and this Yuui were was well beyond what he was trained for. Gods and curses and blessings were Tomoyo’s realm, not his. Once free, he would simply have her find a way to let him kill these creatures once and for all. 

He found that Fai was stronger than he looked. Faster than Kurogane thought, despite the failed attack in the cavern below. He was pulled back into the little cave by a firm grip to his left shoulder before he could get a hold of the rope that had guided him down here. The touch was cold, and burning, and he jerked away to face Fai— slashing with the dagger on instinct. The cold touch had stolen his breath, his arm was numb. 

The blade moved through Fai’s throat cleanly— passed through without any resistance. There was nothing to Fai, but cold and air and the lightness of that strange snowglow he had created to light the way. 

But his lips were warm, and the air that came rushing back into Kurogane was warm, and welcome. And just as much a shock. The blade may have done nothing, but Kurogane could still push Fai back— hard enough for them both to stumble. Kurogane already breathing easier, but the pain from his shoulder darkening his sight— narrowing it to just the focus of Fai and that stupid, idiotic smile the creature kept plastered on. “What the _hell_ was that?”

“Helping.”


	6. The Way Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurogane makes it back to the village and Tomoyo has a plan

“Kurogane-sama!”

The winds moving through the trees, through the abandoned paths and the frozen forest, stole his breath from him. The sudden shift from the seemingly stagnant air of the caves and the open air of the forest hit him like a punch to the gut. The climb up had been done in a haze— he had gripped the rope with one arm, while the other ached— the ice fashioned into steps rather than the steep slopes from earlier. Once out on the level ground, the snow felt too soft—to weak to support him as it had on the way to the cave. 

Kurogane stumbled through to the raging heat of the campfire the man from the village had started. He shielded his eyes from the harsher light casting the long shadows away, and braced against the white hot heat of the air of the camp. 

“Kurogane-sama!” The man had rushed as much as he could— one hand black from the cold, trying to brace himself against the trees as he struggled through the snow— to bring Kurogane closer to the fire. “You’re alive! Did you slay the demon? Did you fix this?”

The edges of his sight were still dark, the light on the snow too bright. “What was this shrine to?”

“Pardon?”

“The shrine,” Kurogane indicated the structure that the man had started to dig out during his prayers. “What was it to?”

The man had boiled water and heated what sake was left from the supplies shared with his friends the night (Kurogane assumed it had only been one night) before. There was the rest of the dried meat, and the cold rice. Everything that could was placed into his lap as soon as he stumbled to a spot by the fire— trying to turn his face from the heat and light even as he settled into the new warmth. The man shuffled around his little camp with less ease than Kurogane expected. 

“Just local gods. I don’t know them.”

“But you prayed to them.”

“Every little bit helps, right?” The man gave a soft chuckle, and Kurogane decided that he was simply repeating the phrase from someone else. He tried to ignore the now-familiar little chuckle from the figure near the cave. “What did you see in there?”

“Nothing important.” 

In the morning, Kurogane would mark the trees to find their way back to the cave. In the morning, while the man gathered whatever he could manage of whatever supplies were left, Kurogane would have words with the smirking bastard creature lingering at the cave mouth not to invite anything to disrupt the path back. And when they returned to the village to explain what was the source of the snow and ice and the curse taking the men and travellers, he will hope that the solution includes burning the shrine to the ground to be rid of the local gods for good. 

He learnt that the man could not see Fai, and that Fai could not see the little spirit child darting through the trees. He learnt that evening that the darkness and the barrier that edged them inward to the fire were not Fai’s doing, but that Fai could counter it. That evening and night, the darkness was kept at bay and the strange wind that had drained the men of their life before had died down. 

That night, the man sitting closer to the fire than Kurogane dared stared up at the stars in amazement and started telling the stories he had heard in the village about the stars on winter nights and the ghosts that travelled in blizzards. 

Kurogane let him have his chatter, and tried not to mind the ache in his left arm. And tried harder to ignore the way Fai leaned in to hear the story, or perched atop the torii like a damned bird to see the stars the man described. 

He saw the child twice more on the way back to the village. Once at the shrine, building little figures in the snow, and again at the shelter where they hurried through. It was there that Kurogane realised the snow was starting to melt and the cold was starting to abate, because he could see, at the nook where the shelter opened to the path they had been on (just feet from where the villagers still lay in their frozen state), the child sat and dusted the snow from a small set of twin statues bound together by a string of stone and bone beads. While the man said a prayer over his dead friends and made the promise to return to put their souls to rest, Kurogane asked Fai if the statue was supposed to be him. 

Fai only followed them that far. 

When they rested, it was on the path, with a fire to melt the snows that blocked them. The melt had only followed them so long as Fai had; beyond the point Fai was willing to travel, the cold returned in force. 

“It seemed so much easier coming back, Kurogane-sama,” the man said, and Kurogane realised he didn’t know his companion’s name or occupation. Kurogane warned him to stay close to the fire and awake that evening— and the man remarked that the mist spreading out over this part of the woods moved like something living and searching. 

Time passed strangely in the forest. The closer to the fields they got, the longer the days seemed. The warm air rushed passed them like they had just opened a door to a warm home in the depths of winter. The frost still edged it’s way through, but seemed stopped just at the village boundaries rather than having crept forward any further. 

“I saw that damned child,” Kurogane told Tomoyo once inside the warmth of a house. “It’s name is Yuui.”

“And did you save him?”

“Save him? That brat is the thing killing these people!”

Tomoyo tutted at him, sipping tea as she considered the report— the story— Kurogane had given her. “That doesn’t mean he can’t be saved.”

The warmth still hurt, but it seeped into his bones to chase out the clinging, lingering cold. A bruise was already spreading from his shoulder where Fai had touched him with that burning cold— not the deep black of dead tissue and muscle like the villager’s hand, but a bruise enough to worry Tomoyo when she saw it. Still, Kurogane thought that he had got out of the situation mostly unscathed in the end. He learnt that the man— Ate— had lost his hand to the cold, and insisted that Tomoyo send someone to help with whatever it was that he did for his living. 

He had yet to tell Tomoyo of Fai’s definition of “helping”. 

Once warm again, there was still a chill that could not be fully shaken off. It would take the summer heat of the city, he supposed, to seep its way in to drive out the last bit of ice. Even now, it was almost normal in the buildings of the village. They were bright and warm, almost stifling compared to the forest. Compared to the cave. 

“I’ll purify the shrine and the area there,” Tomoyo said; “At the very least, that should settle things down again.”

“We should just seal off the cave.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Kurogane. That child is just looking for his brother.”


	7. Broken Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way back to the caves is much easier the second time around.

This time, when they went into the forest, it was with far more than a handful of volunteers from the woodcutters and hunters and farmers. Tomoyo’s guards moved under Kurogane’s commands to go ahead the day before to clear the path, and the villagers that could went with them to bring back the dead for their rituals. Tomoyo would travel by Kurogane’s side, her retinue would have the supplies she needed to purify and close the shrines— to dismiss the abandoned gods and send them off where they should be going. 

Kurogane still wanted to burn the damned things and hope it was more effective. 

Tomoyo laughed and patted his shoulder as if he were a boy again. 

He was far more prepared this time— not for the noise that came with the larger group, but for the sense of the barrier at night, for the mist and the cold and the sights now that he knew what to look for. He saw the boy in the mist when they settled for the night— at the little shelter where his princess left an offering for the small statue before placing a kekkai of her own to ward off the dangers of a cold night. This time, Kurogane had his guards facing away from the fires, their backs warmed but their eyes trained on the darkness. He watched them as they watched the mist move between the frozen trees, as they turned at the sounds of wood splintering in the cold, as they watched the lights of the fires dance against glittering ice that coated the trees around them in a manner they had never seen. He watched them shiver despite the fires and draped his own cloak over Tomoyo when he saw her warming her hands. 

“You’re not cold.”

“Not yet.”

It had taken the lower cavern to chill him before. It had taken whatever magic Fai had conjured to sink in through his own will and start to freeze him. That bone-cold hadn’t left yet, but he barely noticed the ice and the snow cleared in piles from the frozen ground with all the heat from the fires. At worst, the day’s winter feel had been an annoyance because someone else started complaining about it. 

He decided that Tomoyo would not go into the cave. Whatever ritual she was about to do, it was not going to be in those iced walls or with Fai smiling at her while she shivered and froze. She would not struggle to find her footing on those slopes, only to fight her way back up. Kurogane would seal off the caves himself if she suggested anything different.

When the kekkai was dropped in the morning, Kurogane thought the cool breeze was almost a blessing against the radiating heat from the cooking fires that had been contained within Tomoyo’s own barriers and wards. 

“The child is stronger now, Kurogane,” Tomoyo told him quietly as they travelled along the clear routes. The boy had been appearing along the path, looking up at the soldiers in wonder, trailing after Tomoyo’s small force of attendants. Kurogane watched him, even as the child seemed overwhelmed by the group of chattering, trampling people. “Did you leave an offering for him last time?”

“The other guy did. It didn’t help.”

“It did.” He didn’t like the way she would smile to the little spirit as he moved between the trees— disappearing for an hour at a time and returning somewhere along the way to watch them pass by. 

“He lost a hand.”

“But not his life.”

The forest was not as unsettling this time. Kurogane decided that it was the force with them, the larger group, the louder noises, the cleared paths. This was not a ghostly forest struggling under some demon— it was just a forest. Branches and trees still cracked and splintered under the cold. The silence of the woods was dulled by the steady march of armoured soldiers. They moved faster, the villagers that came this time were less terrified, less foolish under the guidance of the princess and her men. But they still shivered, they still jumped as the snow and ice fell from the branches, or the resonating cracks and creaks of the breaking wood somewhere out of sight reached them across the otherwise silent woods. The guards in the front still struggled on the ice that could not be cleared, and those in the back used the frozen trees for balance as they struggled one the cold mud. 

“Are you not cold, Kurogane?” 

Tomoyo had tucked her hands into her sleeves, had a winter cloak borrowed from one of their hosts draped across her shoulders. Her ladies had bundled up the same. 

“No.”

“It must be that hot temper.” It wasn’t Tomoyo who spoke, though she smiled all the same. Fai had finally made his own appearance, watching the line of people pass from one of the trees. Kurogane ignored him, they were close and they were almost finished. He would be rid of the bastard soon and they could just be on their way.

The group slowed, the guards in the lead started spreading out— the remnants of the old campfire were still in the shrine grounds, and Kurogane ordered a new camp to be started, even as he helped Tomoyo through the snow to the old, decrepit shrine. 

When close, while the group they were with was busy— while they were lost in the flurry of activity around them— Tomoyo approached the shrine with a small offering she had been holding on to throughout the trip. She smiled to the child watching her with wide, curious, blue eyes, and left the offering before addressing the little creature. At least Kurogane had the satisfaction of seeing those wide eyes look over him before turning attention on the princess. 

“You must be Yuui?” Tomoyo bowed low; “It’s an honour to be visiting your shrine.”

“You’re not here to rebuild.” Kurogane couldn’t recall if he had heard the child speak before; he had certainly heard enough of Fai’s voice to last the rest of his life. “Why are you here?”

“To help you, Lord Yuui. To get you strong for your new journey.”

“Journey?” The boy frowned, brow furrowed as he looked over the offering left at the larger shrine— at the broken wood and the ice pulling away what few tiles remained on the roof. “I can’t leave.”

Tomoyo offered a hand, and Kurogane tightened his hold on his sword. “Why not? What can I do to help?”

“I’m looking for my brother.”

“I’m sure I can help you find him.” Tomoyo’s hand was still stretched out in offering, encouraging the creature with a child’s face closer; “I’m a dreamseer, I’m sure I can help you meet with your brother again.”

Before Kurogane could speak against it, before he could warn the creature off or knock his princess away to safety, small hands met and the child disappeared as Tomoyo collapsed in the snow. It was a trance, he knew it was a trance, the attendants and the guards knew that it was a trance, but these things were few and far between, even in the comfort of the Imperial temples and private rooms. He wrapped her in his own cloak and brushed the snow away from her sleeves and dress before he brought her to the fires and glared at anyone coming too close. Only idiots attempted to ‘help’ when the princess was like this— drawing people and spirits into her own little world and into her own little visions. 

He held her close against the cold and snapped at the men and women who had better things to do. “Get back to work.”

“Is she okay?” Fai knelt next to them; “She was speaking with Yuui, wasn’t she? She could see him?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she okay?”

“You care?” At best, Fai was some sort of local demigod— probably presiding over something moronic like idiots who got lost in caves. At worst, Fai was a strange creature masquerading as a kind force. Either way, the concept of empathy seemed too far out of his realm for Kurogane to believe. He swatted the curious hand away from Tomoyo when Fai got too close.

Fai only smiled. That’s all the bastard did. “Of course I do. I like her, and you. Why else would you be able to see me?”

“Because you’re a pain in the ass.” Kurogane grumbled as he shifted to lay Tomoyo near the fire— close to the warmth until she woke again. He was used to watching over her like this. “She’s fine; just dragged Yuui into some illusion of hers.”

“Oh…” 

There was a near steady dripping now, as the ice in the trees seemed to soften. As the men in charge of preparing firewood had an easier time stripping the layers of ice away from the bark. There was a new dampness to the air around them.

Kurogane looked away long enough to order someone away from the caves— to have a guard keep the rest of the troupe away from opening. When he looked back to Tomoyo, Fai had taken her hand, and then vanished. 

“Idiot.”


End file.
